Reflection
by ZDrive
Summary: Allen Walker is a 17 year old piano protégé moving into a small town with his godfather Cross after Mana died. So far he hates it, but his neighbor Kanda Yuu is interesting and strange. One time he's cool and nonchalant, and the next…he's dark, chilling, violent. What is going on? Yullen


**Reflection**

**Summary: Allen Walker is a 17 year old piano protégé moving into a small town with his godfather Cross after Mana died. So far he hates it, but his neighbor Kanda Yuu is interesting and strange. One time he's cool and nonchalant, and the next…he's dark, chilling, violent. What is going on?**

**Rated M**

**Angst/Supernatural**

**Yullen**

**: "Y" :**

**Chapter 1**

**: "A" :**

Allen decided, as he walked out of the airport with suitcase in tow, that he was not a fan of Black Pine, Arizona. It was small, hot, dry, and bare. Nothing like the chilly weather, grey air, and human clogged streets of London, England. What annoyed Allen the most, though, was that he would be spending a whole year of life, senior year in fact, wasting away here with his new guardian, Marian Cross.

Cross was an ex-General for the government or whatever (he wasn't interested in the details) and wasn't use to taking care of anyone. Allen could only the imagine what he would have to do to appease the usually drunk, womanizing man who was infamous for spending so much money, getting stuck neck high into debts, and ditch by the hair of his short little beard. Allen's stomach curled sourly at the negative thoughts, and he already hated it. He only wanted to go home, to his _real _home, and already missed it. He missed England, missed the people, the cold…never missed the streets, of course, but most of all he missed- he missed…

Allen shed his jacket and threw it with more force than necessary into the car after his small red suitcase. _Mana._

Allen got into the taxi, shifting on the cracked cheap seats, and told the half-deaf cabbie Cross' address. After many strained, polite tries, the old cabbie finally got the address right and drove off to Innocence Avenue in the older parts of the already ancient small town.

Allen propped his chin on the palm of his gloved and watched the bare, bland landscape go by before they hit the tiny city. It was so…boring. No historical sites at all. To Allen, it was a strange, new, alien world, and he was growing more and more wary of it each passing second.

The white haired boy was grateful to the quiet cabbie, knowing he would make a rude contributor to even the most pleasant and idle of conversations.

They arrived, took a turn, went straight, and another turn before the cabbie parked in front of a large white house, fancy with an iron gate and a large U for parking. The house itself was one story, but expanded over the land like a sprawling, white square, all sharp angles, floor to ceiling glass, and neatly trimmed green lawn.

Allen raised a brow but said nothing, opting to pay the cabbie and bid him a farewell. The cabbie drove off and Allen looked at the house, face frowning with the suitcase at his feet, coat over his arm. He glanced at the neighbor's house to his right and stared.

It was obviously fitted of a Victorian era, and very old. It was dark and looming, but well-kept and neat. He could have sworn her saw a curtain move and Allen squinted, taking a step towards it…

"Oi! Brat!" Allen's head snapped towards the slurred voice of one Marian Cross as he stood many yards away in a bathrobe with a bottle of fine wine in his hand, as he glowered haughtily from his place at the front door. "Com'ere! I gotta show you your room! And you better be damn happy about it, I spent an hour on it…" He trailed off to grumbling as he turned and swaggered back inside, door cracked open.

Allen stared, then groaned, letting his head fall back so he could shut his eyes and take a breath before getting a bearing on the already stressful situation. Blowing out a huge breath with a puff of his pale cheeks, he grabbed his suitcase and lugged it through the gates, down the giant U dive, and staggered into the house. He didn't spare the other, older house another glance.

But if he had, perhaps he would have seen the curtain shift to the side so dark blue, half-lidded eyes could watch him with a mix of suspicion and boredom, before vanishing with the swish of the now closing curtain.

(-)

**New?**

_Yes. But remember what happened last time we snuck into that bastard's house?_

**Yes. No care. New. **

_Yes, I know. He probably came from somewhere with a cold climate. Leave him be._

**No. New. Play.**

_No. You can't hurt him. He's not interesting, so let's avoid him at all costs. Especially with that gun wielding maniac-_

**..pretty.**

_What?_

…

(-)

"So…Cross."

"Call me Master."

"Excuse me?!"

A plume of smoke drifted to the ceiling, the large fan's blades rotating sluggishly. Cross took another drag and paused before releasing it, straight into Allen's face. Allen wheezed and coughed, batting at the smoke in his face as Cross stared at him with half-lidded, lazy hazel eyes.

"You're living in my house now, idiot. And I'm going to teach you everything I know. From picking up women, to shooting guns, to defending yourself, gambling, cheating-"

"Woah, woah, WOAH!" Allen shouted, waving his gloved hands in front him, borderline hysteric. "I rather like simply befriending women who are not sluts, I don't need to shoot guns, I can protect myself just fine, and I already cheat and gamble to pay off some debts that were thrown my way by _you _before-!"

"Yeah, well," Cross sniffed, taking another drag. "Too bad, punk. My house, my town, my rules."

"Well it's my town now, isn't it," Allen shot back hotly.

"Not until you graduate from this dump of a highschool here and learn proper self-defense…not that shit street fighting you did when you were a kid."

Allen bit back a growl and a flinch. That was low. "Shut up," he spat. "You know nothing! I had to defend myself from creeps like you all the time-"

He was caught off guard when suddenly leaped from the couch and shoved him against the wall, cigarette dangling and hazel eyes blazing. He leaned in, eyes narrowed, as he said calmly, "Don't compare me those trash rapists. I go to willing women, not little boys with filthy faces and even filthier mouths."

Allen swallowed and didn't breathe as the older man blew smoke into his face before backing off. Allen's eyes followed glaringly as Cross turned and started to walk upstairs. He paused, however, on the first few steps and looked back, face oddly serious. "You don't know this town, brat," he said, stern. The light reflected sharply on his glasses, giving his eyes a dangerous look.

Especially when they flickered briefly to the dark house next door.

"You're closer to danger than you think."

And with those wise, morbid words, Cross spun away and went upstairs, leaving Allen alone.

Allen glanced out the window, eyes resting on the darker house next door.

(-)

Allen jabbed the doorbell two hours later, a batch of chocolate chip cookies resting warm and gooey on a plastic red plate.

Half of him did this to get to know more people in town. Lord knows he needs friends and besides, what better way to do it than with your neighbor first?

…and the other half just wanted to piss Cross off. Flirting with danger was Allen's occupational hazard since birth. He did it every day. That, and he was genuinely curious, with the way Cross's eyes flittered to this specific house as he told Allen about danger being close.

Allen had a feeling that he was joking.

But the street rat instincts said that it was true.

He shoved those away. He didn't need them. He was _fine._

Allen waited for a few more minutes, frowning, but no one opened the door. This time he knocked hard, hammering his fist into the dark wood. "Hello?" He hollered, taking a step back. "Anyone home?"

Silence.

Allen huffed, brushing white bangs out of his eyes as he glowered at the still door.

"I know you're in there," he shouted, voice rising. "I saw you watching me when I came today. Don't be rude!"

Silence.

Allen was sick of this. Really, honestly, sick of this. This guy or whoever was obviously no danger, especially when they wouldn't even answer the door. He scoffed and stepped away, muttering, "Coward," under his breath.

He turned away, planning to leave and eat the cookies for himself, when the door creaked and swept open carefully. Allen froze and whirled, grey eyes clashing with a startling-

-black.

"You're eyes are black," Allen blurted like a moron. He stiffened in mortification, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Ah, sorry!" He murmured hastily. "I- I've just never seen-"

"Eyes so dark?"

Allen swallowed. His neighbor's voice was low, slightly raspy, and one would say sexy. He had his long, blue black hair loose and trailing down his back, and sharp, bottomless eyes that Allen couldn't tear his eyes away from, forcing himself not to fall into their depths. His skin was light and from the sharpness of his features and eyes, he was Japanese. And a breath takingly gorgeous one at that.

Allen mentally slapped himself- _was he a school girl, suddenly falling in love with a total stranger?! No!- _and stepped forward to shake his hand. "My name's Allen Walker," he said brightly, smiling. He found it easier to resist falling into those eyes. He felt confidence well in his chest when the man took his hand and shook it. "I'm Cross's, unfortunately, godson. I'll be staying here for a while. I just came here to meet new people…I'm afraid I don't know anyone here."

"Kanda Yuu," the other said smoothly as they released hands. His voice was cold, but his black eyes were live and bright with interest. Allen tried to ignore the foreboding shiver that spun its way up his spine as Kanda raked his form in a way that one could call almost greedy. "But you can call me Mugen."

"Mugen?" Allen raised a brow. "Is that your middle name?"

"No."

Allen fell silent. It wasn't his business where that name came from, no matter how odd, but it really did fit him. Especially those dark eyes… "I'm sorry for banging on your door earlier. I'm afraid I don't have a punching bag with all this stress and I thought you were ignoring me, too."

"Not at all," said Mugen. His eyes lingered on Allen's exposed throat, falling along its curve to the dip of his collar bone, where pale skin was exposed and a small shadow settled in the shallow hollow. "I was having trouble with something. Not anything of great importance, though," he added when Allen frowned curiously. "I handled it easily."

"Oh, that's good." Allen smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It was nice meeting you. But I have to get back to Cross or he'll flip…unfortunately." He sighed.

Mugen smirked, leaning against the door frame as his long hair spilled over his shoulder. "Unfortunate for him, or you?" He chuckled.

Allen grinned back at him, lighting up the atmosphere so much one could almost taste the sweetness of his hidden laughter and joy. Mugen licked his lips. "For me, 'cause he gives me hell. For him soon enough, because I plan to dish out purgatory to him as well."

Mugen laughed, the sound rich and deep and oh so delicious like melting dark chocolate. Allen felt its warmth wrap around him, only for it to chill when he locked eye with Mugen once again. Those eyes were like powerful magnets, but Allen wasn't afraid, even if it did become a little colder.

"I look forward to seeing that," Mugen said.

Allen grinned and waved, before bounding away to next door, calling in mock arrogance over his shoulder, "I won't disappoint, darling," and snickering.

Mugen watched him go before moving back inside. He shut the door quietly and closed his eyes, leaning his head back so the back of his skull bumped against the wood. The hall was dark and silent, it was almost eerie, but that didn't deter the dark eyed man. He lifted the hand that Allen shook, where their skin had touched, and ran his slick, wet tongue from the inside of the wrist to the tip of his middle finger, letting out a breathy moan.

"So good," he breathed, feeling high and hard, his organ beneath his pants stiffening. His other hand fell to the large bulge, brushing over it with agonizing tenderness. He looked so sweet, mouth lush, skin unmarked, unblemished, not tainted and so soft-

A voice raged in his head when he began to unzip his jeans. He laughed back mockingly, slipping his hands inside and fingered his tip as it began to drip, licking the sweet taste of Allen's skin from his own as he did so.

"I'll leave you hard enough so you have to take care of it yourself if you don't shut up," he hissed suddenly at the voice in his head, still moving his hand rapidly beneath his jeans. "I want him. That Allen Walker. I'll break him and you will only savor a small taste before I crush him. I get what I want, and I want him. I _hate you, you fucking bastard."_

He hissed at the rush of heat and the warm fluid, now dripping between his fingers. He breathed in deeply, the presence in his head fuming, knowing he was able to do nothing to stop the darker one from getting the boy. _He had to protect the child_, and Mugen laughed when he heard this thought pass through his mind, letting the other take over his body. It was useless. _He _couldn't protect Allen from _Mugen, _even if this was _his _body and not Mugen's.

Drifting in the cold darkness of the mind, lingering rage and hopelessness and slight fear still tangent from the previous occupant, Mugen smiled.

He could taste the sweetness of Allen Walker already.


End file.
